The Detective, The Writer and The Closet
by Mindy35
Summary: CASKETT. Beckett acquaints Castle with the precinct's storage closet.


Title: The Detective, the Writer and the Closet

Author: mindy35

Rating: very much M

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made

Spoilers: Nothing major…

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Summary: Post-ep of sorts for "Swan Song" (but nothing much to do with the ep). Beckett acquaints Castle with the precinct's storage closet.

A/N: Inspired by Beckett's prank at the end of the episode and also by one of the skirts Stana wore in her recent LHJ photoshoot. (With apologies to CS Lewis who would probably not approve of the tiny homage within.)

A/N: Okay, so I *hate* doing this but this is NOT the full version of this story. I would prefer for people to read the full version if they are of the appropriate age. I know that some people will post adult content on this site but technically it is not allowed so there is a massive chunk of story missing from this post. To find it, please go to mindymakrutu dot livejournal dot com. You can review anonymously there or let me know what you think here. Sorry again for the inconvenience and hope it is worth any extra effort. M :)

-x-x-x-

He was whistling as he stepped off the elevator, heart skipping with the expectation of seeing her after a full fourteen and a half hours of separation. Not that he was counting. The moment he caught sight of her though, Castle stopped in his tracks. The twin coffee cups he held nearly slipped from his fingers to the floor. His Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably for a moment before his jaw just dropped.

Beckett continued plucking the photos and evidence bags off the murder board. She waited almost a full minute – feeling his eyes scour her for every millisecond of it – before acknowledging his presence by murmuring in a calm, even tone:

"Castle. You're staring."

It took several attempts before he succeeded in dragging his eyes up to her face and locating his voice. "…Huh?"

"To be more specific," her eyes grazed him as she turned to her desk, "you're ogling."

He watched her stride to the desk in black, spiked heels and almost moaned aloud when she leant over to deposit the evidence of their last case in the box she was filling. "I…you…you're…wearing…"

She turned to face him, one hand propped on her hip. "What?"

"A skirt," he pointed out, nodding at the deep purple, above-the-knee number.

"I am," she answered, blinking impassively.

"And it's…" he paused long enough to lick his suddenly dry lips, "it's…well, it's…leather."

"It is." She tilted her head, arched a brow. "Your point?"

Castle shuffled on the spot, giving her another wide-eyed onceover. "I've never seen you wear a skirt to work before."

"Hm. Well…no chasing bad guys for me today," she told him, heading back to the board with a cloth. She began wiping it clear of all its various scrawls and queries, making sure she rose onto her toes as she did, flexing her calves and elongating her frame. "I'm in court today, testifying on the O'Leary case."

"Oh." Castle nodded a few times, head sinking to one side as he enjoyed the view. "And what, you thought you'd give the jury a little treat? Jolt them out of their civic stupor with your double-barrelled weapon of choice there?"

Beckett turned to face him, lips parted in incredulity but eyes flashing with amusement. She flicked her gaze at one of the tall paper cups in his hand, asking with an edgy little lilt, "Is that for me?"

Castle looked down, seeming to recall the customary morning offering he bore. "Oh—" He started towards her, handing it across. "Yes. Yeah…"

Beckett stepped closer, accepting the coffee and watching his gaze drift slowly downwards once more. "Hey. Elevator Eyes." She circled a finger at her face. "I'm up here."

His eyes snapped up to hers. "Sorry, it's just…" He glanced about to make sure none of their colleagues were within earshot but could only keep his eyes off her for a brief spell. "What I wouldn't give," he continued quietly, gaze re-joining hers, "to have been there this morning to see you slip into that."

She sipped her coffee, shrugged a shoulder. "Well, you were the one that had to write last night."

"Oh, I see," he mused, sidling closer, "so the skirt is partly to torture me for not coming over last night?"

"Not at all, Castle, not at all." Beckett shook her head then eyed him a moment over the rim of her cup. "I have other plans for you, none of which involve torture of any variety."

"Plans?" His brows leapt upwards. "W-What plans?"

"To start with," she answered, attempting to sound completely normal, "I want you to go down the south corridor and turn left. The first door on the right is a storage closet."

Castle frowned in confusion. "You…need me to get you a mop?" He wiped his chin with one hand and looked at it. "Was I really drooling that much?"

"Noooo," she said, voice slow and deliberate but with an underlying tremor. "I need you to go inside and wait. Okay?"

He frowned some more then nodded. "Okay." Castle set his coffee on her desk. "I have no idea what's going on but okay."

She shot him a sly smile as he turned to go. "You've never had any idea, Castle."

Pivoting back towards her, Castle leant in close to murmur in her ear, "That's the way I like it. Leaves more room for you to astound me."

Beckett smiled as she watched him saunter off towards the south corridor, his step easy and hands shoved deep in his pockets. He nodded a greeting to a pair of officers as they passed him, fellow officers she then had to avert her gaze from so they didn't catch her staring moonily after her partner. She took a large sip of the coffee he'd brought her, wagging her head at herself in silent admonition. She really had it bad if she was letting Castle have the last word in any conversation. She'd never have let that happen back in the day. But then neither would Beckett have done what she was pretty sure she was about to.

Yanking open the top drawer of her desk, she grabbed the miniature bottle of Fracas and headed for the ladies room without entertaining a single second thought. She released a breath when she pushed through the door to find the communal bathroom empty. The reflection that greeted her showed a woman with heightened color and anticipation gleaming in green eyes. She couldn't help sending her mirror image a secret smile as she hastily spritzed herself with perfume and gave her hair a preparatory ruffle. Hesitating a moment or two, she drew in a long, shuddery breath and held it, her eyes squeezed shut. Then she bent swiftly, reaching up under her skirt and drawing down her underwear. She stuffed them in her jacket pocket along with the small bottle of Castle's preferred scent. Then Beckett straightened her shoulders, turned to the door and headed back into the bustling bullpen, her heartbeat matching the pace of her heels as they clicked quickly in the direction of the south corridor.

-x-

Stalking to the end of the stunted hall, she rose onto her toes and nudged the security camera to point at the opposite wall. Then she headed back to the storage closet door, stealthy scanning the immediate area to establish that the coast was clear before slipping inside. She found him standing on a wooden crate, nose hovering over a claggy looking jar. Beckett shut the door and threw the lock. Castle froze, looking like a kid caught with both hands in the cookie jar.

"I know what it looks like," he said shiftily, "but I was not sniffing this."

She shot him an incredulous look, head shaking. "I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you doing or touching something you shouldn't, can I?"

"I was investigating."

"You better not have that stuff on your hands."

"My hands?"

"Put it back. Now."

"So—" Castle capped the jar and set it on a shelf with its friends before jumping down from the crate. "Do you have some top secret info to share or is this a _Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_ type deal where one of these lockers leads to a magical world?"

Beckett glanced at the quartet of lockers in one corner, not quite believing the occasional density of the brilliant man she was so hopelessly in love with. Remembering her date with the justice system as well as the lonely night she'd just endured, she decided a direct approach would achieve the best results in their current situation. She marched towards Castle, grabbed his shirt-front and pulled him in for a kiss. A hard, fast, sloppy kiss that left him with no option but to understand her intention.

Castle was panting when she released him, shaken and shocked. "Wha…? _Here?_"

"Here," she confirmed with a short nod. She shoved his jacket off his shoulders. "Now."

"_Really?_" he squeaked as his fists got caught in his sleeves and he struggled to tug them free.

Beckett wrenched the jacket off, threw it towards the crate. "Really, Castle."

"But…" his eyes floated past her to the door, indicating the precinct beyond it, "what about—?"

She kissed him again, slower this time and with a twisting, teasing tongue. She moaned into his mouth, her hands moving purposefully down his body. When they reached his belt, she took a hold of it, pulling him against her. His hips collided with hers, making him gasp and groan at the same time. She nipped at his bottom lip, at his jaw and chin, one hand stealing down to massage him through his pants and encourage the reaction his body was betraying despite the hesitation of his brain.

"Any more questions?" she crooned, head tipping to one side.

Castle shook his head and gulped hard. When he managed to open his eyes and look at her, they were dark blue and dilated with arousal. "I…really don't think…I can think of any…"

"Good," she murmured, lifting her lips to his, parting them for him but withholding the final contact they both wanted. She hovered there for a moment, open mouth desiring open mouth, breath seeking breath, tongues craving their known mate. She let the tension build, hoping to goad him into doing what was now her favorite thing in the entire world. "Caaastle…" she breathed, putting four years and fourteen extra hours' worth of aching into her tone. "Work with me here, won't you?"

Her ploy worked.

He did it. Just what she wanted, just how she needed.

Castle shoved her against the door, attacking her flesh all of a sudden, devouring her body like she was the only thing he'd ever desired from life. Beckett gasped as her back made contact with the door, as his familiar bulk enveloped her. Her arms immediately rose to embrace him while her head tilted backwards to receive the passion he was once again painting all over her heated skin.

"I love making love to you when you're in your work clothes," he muttered into the curve of her shoulder before dragging his wet, warm mouth up her neck to kiss the nook where her jaw met her ear.

"And here I thought—" she attempted to say but had to swallow mid-sentence as he licked the same spot then bit her earlobe, "—you preferred me without any clothes at all."

"I do," he whispered in her ear, large palms smoothing over her hips, thumbs stroking her hipbones. "But…" he pulled back to look at her, his chest expanding fast and full against hers, "I first fell in love with you as Beckett. It took me awhile to get to the Kate buried underneath." His hands briefly departed her body in order to peel the jacket from her shoulders and toss it aside. Then he let his eyes travel downwards, over the white shirt that was pressed against his black one, over the soft purple leather his hands were back to enjoying the texture of. "Making love to you in your work clothes reminds me of all the hours, days, months, years of working beside you, walking beside you, sitting beside you. Being so close. But not close enough to touch." Castle paused, eyes lifting to her face, pinning hers as his hands began to draw her shirt out of her skirt. "Never close enough to know what it felt like to make you tremble, to feel your warmth, to feel you want me back…"

Beckett sighed as hands stole inside her clothes to taste the flesh of her waist, sides, back. Her head fell back against the door and lolled there as she regarded him through half-lidded eyes. Castle was turning this into something she hadn't anticipated. She'd meant for this to be a clandestine quickie, a silly sexual adventure they could later laugh about, a little something to take the edge off after their night apart. But nothing more. Still, like everything that had passed between them, sex between her and Castle was never so simple. Adventurous, yes. Silly, sometimes. But rarely quick. In fact, sex with Rick Castle had never been anything but life-alteringly intense and a different flavor of extraordinary every single time. Perhaps because it was not just sex between the two of them and never could be. It was exploration. It was celebration. It was connection. And that was a fact of her brand new life that Kate Beckett was still getting used to.

Giving a limp laugh, she ran a hand down his cheek, letting her index finger graze his full mouth. "Too much talking, Castle." She lifted her heavy head, gazing at him with eyes full of tenderness. "We have to be quiet, okay? And quick."

"I'm just saying—" He planted a kiss on one of her roving fingers then told her in a noisy whisper: "it's extremely satisfying to be able to do all the things now that then I could only imagine."

"And write about," she added, quirking a brow at him. "For_ all the world_ to read."

Castle smirked, expertly flicking open a few buttons on her shirt before slipping a hand inside. "This coming from the woman who wanted to perform selected sex scenes from my various works during our first night together."

"To which you had no objection," she breathed, pressing herself into his warm palm.

"None whatsoever." His thumb circled her nipple through the lace of her bra while his nose plunged into the other side of her neck, inhaling in appreciation. "Just as I have absolutely no objection to you going off-book."

"Good to know." Beckett began tugging her skirt up from the hem, twisting her hips until the snug leather sat atop her thighs. She took the hand inside her shirt and slid it up her inner thigh instead. "Cos we are way, _way_ off-book here, Castle…"

-x-

Castle sat on his crate, elbows on his knees and body bowed. He shook his head at the floor, muttering in awe, "How does it keep getting better? _Every single time_?"

Slumped against the door, Beckett dragged her skirt back down to her knees and flicked her hair out of her eyes. "I don't know," she said, breathless as bent to retrieve her errant shoe. "But it does." She crossed her ankle over her opposite knee and slipped the shoe on before pushing herself away from the support of the door. "You go out first. Okay?"

Castle bobbed his head a few times, eyes coasting over her. "Okay."

She re-buttoned her shirt and started tucking it back into her skirt. "…Castle?" she prompted when he didn't make a move to rise and leave.

"Uh? Yeah, no, yeah…" His brows rose and eyes widened as he gradually became more alert. "I just…need a moment to remember how to, you know…stand upright. And…walk."

Beckett extended a hand towards him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Just put one foot in front of the other, partner."

Castle put his hand in hers, groaning as she hauled him to his feet, "Sounds simple enough…" He shuffled to the door, looking dazed and ruffled, his suit jacket dangling dustily from one arm.

She stopped him as he was reaching for the doorknob. "Hey." And when he faced her, she reached up, righting his hair so it flopped in its usual direction then, running a hand over his shoulder, she smoothed out the indents her teeth had made in his shirt. Beckett smiled up at him, letting her palm rest on his chest a moment. "See you out there."

He grinned back, the lines of his face still lax and stunned. "Not if I see you first."

She shot him a look from the corners of her eyes. "Not your best comeback, Castle."

Castle threw his jacket round his shoulders, sliding one arm in then the other without his eyes ever leaving her face. "If you want my best comebacks, Detective, you can't jump me in the middle of the morning in a semi-public storage closet wearing a leather skirt, sky-high heels and my favorite perfume."

"Well, since I can't promise never to do that again," she patted some dust off the breast of his jacket before using the lapels to draw him closer, "I guess I'll have to settle for less than stellar wordplay from the bestselling author." Her hands tightened on his lapels, pulling him down for one last kiss.

"See, if you hadn't sexed me so good just now," he pointed out after she pulled back, "I would have a witty response to that gibe." He paused, looking vacant. "But you did."

"And so you don't."

He pursed his lips, waiting to see if his brain would kick in. "Nah, I got nothin'."

"Guess you better just go then," she mused, releasing her hold on him.

He nodded once. "Yep." And reached for the doorknob.

He twisted and tugged unsuccessfully at the doorknob for a moment before Beckett reached down and flicked the lock. She held the door for him, watching him exit and head right. "Castle!" she hissed, "Wrong way!"

"Oh…" Castle turned on the spot, looking for a moment like a perplexed puppy chasing its tail. "Right…" He glanced about, found his bearings and headed back towards the bullpen.

Beckett was still smiling when she closed the storage room door. She finished tucking her shirt into the waist of her skirt and was just reaching for her jacket when there was a quiet, conspiratorial knock on the door. She hesitated, her breath catching in panic. But when she heard him whisper from the other side: "It's just me," she relaxed, cracking the door and peering out at Castle.

"D'you think of a decent comeback?" she murmured, leaning close through the narrow opening.

"Not yet," he answered, leaning in close as well. "Give me twenty minutes. I did want to say this though—" Castle glanced about then turned his gaze back on her, eyes glowing with unbridled affection, "You continue to astound, Kate Beckett."

Her lips spread in a warm smile, her eyes glowing shyly back. "You astound me too," she whispered then, inserting a hand through the gap in the door, she forced herself to give his chest a little shove. "Now go away."

"Yes, ma'am." Castle nodded obediently and backed up. "Going…" he pointed towards the continuing bustle of the precinct, "this way—" and this time walked in the correct direction.

Beckett eased the door closed again, still smiling like a lovesick lunatic. It was only after she donned her jacket that her smile faltered. She was smoothing her hands over her outfit, collecting herself before returning to her professional domain, when she noticed two tacky thumbprints, one on each hip of her new skirt. She sighed in irritation. The purple leather skirt was way more expensive than most of the items in her wardrobe and this was the first time she'd even had the opportunity to wear the thing. Trust Castle to vandalize it on its first outing. Admittedly, she did wear it specifically for his benefit, but that didn't excuse him ruining her favorite new purchase. And now she'd have to wear her blazer all day and keep it buttoned up in that hot-as-hell courtroom.

Beckett rolled her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that she'd be conscious of the tell-tale little clues he'd left on her body for the rest of the day. Part of her knew that one mention to Castle of the spoiled skirt and a new one would be delivered to her apartment by day's end. She smiled and looked down, placing her own thumbs over the imprints he'd made. She wouldn't say a word. She suddenly felt irrationally fond of the twin mementos he'd left of their closeted tryst. For the second time that morning, Kate Beckett shook her head at herself. The evidence was now undeniable. When it came to Richard Castle, she really, _really_ had it bad.

Smile still in place, Beckett buttoned her jacket and turned the doorknob, leaving behind the unremarkable little closet that for a short time encompassed a magical world for two.

_END._


End file.
